Martha, Martha
by Beautiful-Chaos-Girl
Summary: Set through the episode of 42 but not canon. the Doctor ruminates on his feelings for Martha


Her face when he'd given her universal roaming… all he'd done was some basic tinkering on a simple gadget and yet she was beaming as if she was an eight year old on Christmas morning. Something stirred inside him, a feeling still shrouded in unfamiliarity. He felt a warmth tingle in his hearts and he could not help but smile. When faced with a smile from Martha Jones, one cannot help but smile back. She smiles with her whole face, her whole body, her whole being lights up. This is the text book definition of happiness.

When they were on that cargo ship in the Torajii system and she'd gone on with Riley Vashtee to open the doors he'd desperately wanted to stop her going, he knew she could get into dire trouble. But like the old, silly coward he was all he said "be careful" she'd simply smiled, thrown him a "you too" and run off. He tired to convey so much in that "be careful" but it just came out flippantly. He regretted that from the start.

Then, he'd discovered that Korwin was ill, something told him there was more here than there seemed, he'd instantly thought of her. Her and her safety. So her ran to the intercoms and called her. Again she'd taken it lightly and he smiled despite himself. He loved her cool head, her calm wit. Her jest calmed him down enough to jest her back. She was just what he needed.

His hearts leapt to his throat as Abby's scream sounded through the speakers. They became heavier as Martha asked him about it. He didn't want her to know, to be hurt or distressed. He couldn't bring himself to do that, not even in the smallest way. So he brushed it off, urging her to keep going.

When Martha screamed for him, babbled out in terror what was happening he sprinted faster than he ever had before. Her terror spurred him on, his limbs felt ablaze with energy. Nothing was going to stop him rescuing her. He had to get there.

"That's enough!" he shouted, blistering with anger at this thing that could possibly see fit to hurt her. He would have said that but he knew she could hear him and his own cowardice stopped him. If she heard him say that than she'd know the truth. His hearts plunged as the words "jettisoning" echoed through the corridor. He was desperate and angry, with Ashton and himself. "I'll save you" he yelled, promising her and himself. Over and over again he shouted those words, words that were pouring straight from his soul to his mouth. But once, just once he slipped up and the truth came out. Instead of "I'll save you" at the last moment it became "I love you" he was so glad she couldn't hear him and hoped she couldn't lip read. The anger resurfaced and he demanded a space suit from Scannell. He ignored Scannell's protests that saving her was impossible. Impossible didn't matter. He promised both Scannell and himself "I'm not going to lose her"

The fear he felt didn't matter. The wind battering hard enough to bruise him didn't matter. The intense heat threatening to burn him up didn't matter. All that mattered was pressing that button and getting her back. As he gripped that lever, screaming in pain and effort, pulling it down with all his strength, even as he felt something intrude on his mind, he was ecstatically happy. She was safe.

The fire gushing through him was immense. Just pure heat and light. Noise, sweat and blood. Unadulterated agony. It flooded his whole body. Yet one thought he retained through this ordeal was "I can't hurt Martha". This helped him retain logic and he spilled out the explanation even as the pain intensified. He clutched her hand, needing, craving her presence more than he ever had before. She helped him hang on to life. He was screaming, crying as fear and heat and anguish consumed him. He told her he was scared and she was there for him. He'd never expected that. It was always him there for others. So it was gut-wrenching when he had to convince her to flee, to save herself and vent the engines. As she left, his scream intensified with a new inner pain all his own. He knew he could only hold on for so long. He was rapidly becoming weaker. As it took the last of him and he heard his own cold blooded threat he hated himself more than he ever had.

As the fuel gushed from its tanks, as the sun got its soul back it receded from him, slipping away like the dregs of a nightmare. But the sweetest thing was her ecstatic face, her out stretched arms sweeping around him and clasping him close. He knew in that moment that this is where he wanted to be, in her arms, breathing in her musk, feeling the beat of her heart forever. As he hugged her back he knew, without a doubt, he loved her. Now it was just the obstacle of telling her.


End file.
